


Just a Taste of Being Human

by alcrevier



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Hello Supercorp Fandom I'm Here With Some Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19853671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcrevier/pseuds/alcrevier
Summary: My angsty spin on the inevitable Lena vs. Kara confrontation regarding the reveal of 4x22.





	1. Chapter 1

Once is an occasion, twice is a coincidence, but three times is deliberate.

That’s what Kara has been telling herself for the past day and a half, at least. That’s what she’s been rambling off to herself, over and over. It’s what she’s been reciting while attempting to process when or _how_ Lena could’ve figured it out, or who could’ve told her, or if she just wasn’t as careful as she figured she was. Moreover, she’s trying to give the universe the benefit of the doubt; there’s no way Lena could’ve found out such a gargantuan secret with little to no evidence, right? There’s no way that ━ if someone told her ━ she’d believe them, right? There’s no way that the world is spiteful enough to _let_ someone else tell her that kind of secret. 

_Right?_

The valid fear all started the second time she had déjà vu while holding a friendly conversation with the dark-haired woman. It was random, starting from a comment she’d heard escape those reddened lips merely hours beforehand, the first time wearing a plain cardigan and the glasses she’s come to call her normal:

 _“You got bangs? They look adorable on you,”_ Lena complimented with a grin teasing her lips.

That casual banter soon turned into something different, hours later, when it was then directed at Supergirl. Something odd, and suspicious to the blonde who’d landed on the woman’s balcony for a quick chat. 

_“Oh, you got bangs,”_ there was a shade of misplaced intrigue in her smile. _“They look adorable on you,”_ she said again, matter-of-factly, baiting her friend ━ though Kara made sure to react differently. 

_“Yeah, they’re taking some time getting used to, but I figured…”_ during the pause, she breathed out, _“it’s always nice to get away from the old.”_

 _“Mm,”_ Lena raised her eyebrows, readying the comment that would thus floor Kara and leave her with parted lips, scrambling for an excuse. _“It’s funny. My good friend━Kara Danvers━just got the same hairstyle. Pretty much on the same day, too.”_

In that instance, Kara was able to play it off. She was able to laugh quietly, remarking that it’s a silly coincidence ━ though she wasn’t sure if she was more so convincing herself of the ludicrous rebuttal, or Lena. 

But, by the third time her best friend found a way to parallel conversations between Kara and Supergirl, she knew it wasn’t déjà vu; it was more along the lines of being an identical, second-rounded conversation that initially took place between Lena and Kara, carried over to when Supergirl bumped into her again. They were hints, she assumed, and Lena was waiting for her to understand the riddles. At the same time, a slight spark of anger within the blonde wondered if she was being toyed with. Presumably speaking, if Lena has known, that means she’s been tip-toeing around the subject while poking at her prey. That’s no better than a screaming match.

Blue eyes spot Lena’s office door at the end of the chic hallway. Sealing her lips, she counts her steps until she’ll be asking her best friend what gives. Until she’ll be asking her what she knows, or if she knows anything. On the other hand, how the hell is she supposed to start a conversation without revealing something that she’s not sure Lena already knows? 

_“Hey, I was wondering if you knew I was Supergirl or not.”_

_Uh,_ no.

Her pointer finger reaches up to push her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. One of her most infamous, self-distractions that has never exactly worked. Nowadays, it’s more of a habit than anything. 

A following breath is taken, right before her knuckles come up to knock. She doesn’t wait to be given the green light. That’s just their thing, by now.

“Kara,” her gaze raises to her guest, flashing a half-smile that’s dimmed little by little for days ━ something else that Kara isn’t fond of.

“Paperwork day?” she notes the millions of sheets scattered amongst her desktop.

She sighs, “Every day is paperwork day. You know that.”

No response. Instead, Kara nods while her eyes bounce along the glass windows behind Lena. Noting their clean state, how the sunshine streams through them without stoppage. Her stare is a last-ditch attempt at figuring out what to concentrate on in hopes of keeping her nerves at bay. It doesn’t work.

“Are you… here for a reason?” Lena breaks her out of her clawed-together trance.

“Um, kind of,” her nails raise to rub the back of her neck, then she purses her lips.

“You have my attention.”

There’s something in the way that Lena says it… there’s something _off_ about it. Like she’d been waiting for this moment, or anticipating a certain confrontation that this may or may not turn into. 

_Crap._

“Okay…” Kara exhales, keeping her distance. “I’m going to ask you something, and… I’d like you to be honest with me,” she speaks cautiously, deliberately, as if not to spook a frightened animal.

Except, in this case, it’s the raven-haired woman slouched in her desk chair that she’s trying not to scare away. And, if you were to ask Kara, she’s the one who’s feeling most apprehensive about the approaching conversation. So much so, she’s _still_ not sure how she’s even going to broach the subject ━ or _if_ she will. It all depends on Lena’s answer, and that’s a fearful unknown in itself.

At her friend’s careful nature ━ even the fact that her footsteps are slow, and her hands are stiff at her sides like boards ━ Lena’s breaths turn shallow. Actually, it’s mainly at the idea that she’s supposed to be honest with Kara when, realistically, it’s the other woman who’s been keeping secrets. The _epitome_ of secrets, to be frank.

Her lips seal. A way of stifling the ongoing, twisted smile that’s a result of what she knows but has yet to reveal.

“Go ahead.”

The blonde takes a breath, psyching herself up to beg the question:

“Are you hiding anything from me?”

Unlike before, Lena can’t stop the snicker that exits her nostrils. It’s subtle enough to pass off as a simple breath, luckily.

“Like what?”

Her friend’s eyes narrow.

“You tell me.”

Lena’s jaw shifts. That’s her first reaction, only. The next is to get out of her chair so she can stand. So she can be face to face with Kara. Eye-level, and somewhat causing the conversation to take a personal turn. Because, after all, this _is_ personal, and Lena isn’t sure she’d be able to get through the topic while so-casually swirling in her chair. Currently, she just feels overall uncomfortable. Caged, somewhat. Cornered, though she’s supposed to be doing the cornering.

Her arms cross in front of her, being an age-old defense mechanism. 

“How about I ask _you_ something,” the proposal is set as her chin lifts a fraction, jaw steely as she braces for what she’s about to say. “Are you hiding anything from me, Supergirl?”

She witnesses her friend’s posture stiffen. Tightening to the fullest while standing, and it looks almost like she’s been blown a step backwards. Lena notes every reaction from Kara. The twitch of her eye, the crinkle of her nose, the minute part of her lips. The telltale sign of being taken aback by something, or blindsided. After that, she waits for the formulating response ━ even denial. _God,_ she hopes Kara doesn’t try to deny it. Not anymore.

“I…” the lone word is all she gets.

Lena’s arms tighten atop her chest, quirking an eyebrow when nothing else comes. And, truthfully, she knows she looks too smug considering how big of a bombshell this is. She knows she appears like a know-it-all, like she’s accusing Kara of something spectacular without letting her get a word in edgewise. However, it’s on the contrary. Lena _wishes_ her friend would explain herself. She wishes Kara would tell her it’s not true ━ and _mean_ it ━ but that’s just not realistic. At the end of the day, Lena knows her brother was sincere to his filthy word regarding Kara’s identity ━ _Supergirl’s_ identity? ━ and she’d rather the other woman come clean, right here and now. 

“Wait,” Kara pieces things together at Lena’s unwavering, pointed expression with her eyes narrowing in mutual suspicion, “you’ve━you’ve known?”

There’s a pause, followed by a hushed, upset tone filling swirling through the thick air.

“You’ve been _pretending━?”_

Lena actually barks out a laugh at the irony. It prematurely ends Kara’s question, as Lena’s arms slump by her sides for a moment. When they cross again, her eyes widen with a sick smile across her face.

“Oh, you have _no_ right in lecturing me about pretending.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, Lena.”

Her face drops when her dumbfoundedness furthers.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” the same, incredulous grin stays on her face as she begs the question. “Please tell me you’re not truly believing you’re the victim in all of this.”

Across the room, her friend swallows thickly as her gaze flickers away. She knows that she cannot stare Lena in those devastated, green eyes and ━ with good conscience ━ claim that they’re both the victims. She knows that it’s not fair to Lena, and it hasn’t been, all along. On the other hand, the other woman’s discontent doesn’t prove a worthy cause to pull some kind of twisted joke on her, just for the hell of it. If Lena already knew, she should’ve said something. She should’ve spoken up, or even interrogated her. _Anything._

Instead, she merely toyed with Kara. She batted her back and forth, putting on a disguise of naivety that even someone as otherworldly as the mighty Supergirl couldn’t pick up on.

“If you knew I was Supergirl, why didn’t you confront me about it? Why play games?” 

“That wouldn’t have changed a goddamn thing!” her voice raises, one corner of her lips twitching in awe during her brief hesitation. “You had to have known this would still be the outcome of keeping your secret. We’d still be having this discussion, one way or another.”

“Not like this,” the other woman pleads, almost whining. “Not like this,” she whispers, taking her glasses off.

The action makes Lena shift her jaw another time. Her eyes tactfully scan her friend’s face, noting the similarities that she’s missed time and time again. It’s all so humorous, she thinks. How could one possibly not notice, after staring at the same pair of faces for the longest of moments? After sketching out every shallow divot and scar along their complexions? After noting their features, so close to the point of memorizing them so they’d never escape her recollections? _“Just in case,”_ she’d tell herself. With her studies, with the amount of hostility she’s felt directed at her in recent years or throughout her existence… one never knows what’s around the corner. Hell, she’s oftentimes welcomed that unknown. It keeps her on her toes, keeps her busy. 

In retrospect, sometimes that “unknown” bites you in the ass. Sometimes that unknown comes in the form of your best friend and savior turning out to be the same person. And while that could be considered a good thing, the deception does the reveal no favors. The way Kara keeps looking at her with those sad, puppy-dog eyes makes it even worse. Especially as Lena knows that her go-to pout ━ the expression that usually makes her crumble through the blonde’s fingers ━ won’t work. They’re in too deep.

“I know I hurt you,” Kara speaks carefully, “but that doesn’t give you the right to━”

“You don’t know the half of what you’ve done, Kara,” a sad glint appears in Lena’s eyes, nearly evoking a blue tint from their emerald. “If you want admission, you can have it: I’ve known for months. I’ve known since the moment before Lex took his final breath,” she explains, not hiding her hurt. “I’ve sat around with you, and I’ve shared drinks, stories, played games like we always do…”

Kara looks away, not being able to bear the sight of Lena’s heartbreak any longer.

“I’ve pretended that I’ve trusted you as my best friend━again and again━like I’ve always done,” a beat. “And why’s that?”

No response. She wasn’t looking for one, anyway.

“Because I thought that maybe━just maybe━it was a lie,” the whisper is fractured, inviting tears into her eyes. “An awful, departing gift from my own brother that turned my world upside down, like he often attempted. I thought he’d been the one pretending, just to get a rise out of his sister before his frigid heart stopped beating,” her teeth pinch together, letting out a dark laugh. “So, I walked away from him with the same denial he had accused me of. The same… _foolery.”_

Still, across from her, Kara listens while feeling her heart shaking within her chest. A sad result of watching Lena crumble, right before her eyes. Those tears streaming down her cheeks one after another as she doesn’t even try to stop them, Kara having to bear witness against her own security. How she wishes she could step forward and promise Lena that she’s always wanted to tell her. That she’s always wanted to keep her in the loop.

Even Kara knows that’d be another lie. 

“In time, I realized that he was right. Not only had my best friend been lying to me about something so massive, so immaculate that I’m _still_ having a hard time wrapping my head around, but every other person I’d looked at as if they’re my own blood has been pulling the wool over my eyes, too,” it grows quiet, her gaze boring into the floor while her features become sharper. “Y’know, it’s funny…” she pauses, looking at Kara again, “I’d always sit at my desk, or go home and unwind… thinking about how fortunate I’ve been to have finally found a family. This scattered, group of people who’ve become my _world._ You, at the forefront of it.” 

Silence.

“I suppose I was a fool to think that, as well.”

“We are your family, Lena. This doesn’t change that,” Kara argues.

“It changes everything,” the whisper is dark. “While I’ve trusted you with my life, my family’s history and the fucked-up nature of why I am who I am, you’ve done _nothing_ but spit in my face. Strutting around, claiming I’m not like every other Luthor that’s come into the world, yet quietly acting as if I’m just the same, toxic sludge. That’s the opposite of being a best friend. You haven’t given back an ounce of the trust I’ve given to you. _No one_ has.”

By now, her few tears have turned into infinite rivers, leaking from her eyes freely. Still, she doesn’t bother stopping them. She doesn’t blink them away, or attempt to hide their existence. She doesn’t even sniffle, or wipe them from her face to pretend that she’s above this conversation. Ultimately, it’s a sign that ━ after everything ━ perhaps she’s beyond saving by simple words and apologies. Although Kara would naturally attend to optimism or hope that things aren’t as bad as they seem, she knows the only fool in this room would be her to believe as such. 

Maybe this time she’s fucked up one too many times with Lena. Maybe she should’ve taken another course of action. She should’ve tried harder. She should’ve invested in advice from Alex more frequently. Surely she would’ve proposed the idea of telling Lena. Coming from her sister, it would’ve been a little more easy to follow. It would’ve seemed like the obvious thing to do. The _only_ thing to do, actually. Then again, Alex never suggested it. If she thought telling Lena ━ straight up ━ was the best case scenario, she would’ve said so, right? 

No matter what, it’d be wrong of her to put the blame on anyone. Lena may have her grievances with the others for likewise hiding it from her, but she’s positive that they’ve only ever kept it because it wasn’t their secret to tell. They have a fall-back, a genuine excuse.

Kara? She doesn’t. 

There is no excuse for lying to Lena for so long, and she knows it. Looking back, it just seems way more clear than it did, in the moment. For so long, she’s claimed that her secret protects those she’s close to, but look at what happens day in and day out: Alex fights alongside her, James gets shot, Nia and Brainy are included in the fray, and the list goes on. No one is ever safe, anyway. Lena, herself, has even fallen victim to the most lucrative plots and dangerous tasks, like having Eve as a spying assistant for months upon months. Her mother is a criminal, her brother was one in the same.

So, what was the protection against? What was this hoax supposed to do? Obviously it wasn’t to keep Lena safe, or to keep her true identity a secret. Here, she just starts to realize it.

“I didn’t keep my identity from you because I don’t trust you,” Kara treads carefully, getting a cold look from her friend. “It’s just━I don’t know,” she huffs, borderline groaning at herself. “For so long, you’ve been the one person in my life who didn’t know.”

Despite her attempt of implying something else, Lena raises her eyebrows and looks away.

“How fortunate of me,” the sarcasm is pronounced. “Here I was, looking at it all wrong. Shame on me.”

Kara bows her head, licking her lips in thought.

“As a journalist, I’ve learned that there’s always more than one side to a story,” her gaze lifts to meet Lena’s, the woman appearing emotionless. “For the amount that I possibly _can_ understand, I know that I’ve hurt you,” her voice is low. “I know that━maybe━our friendship is beyond repairing,” similar tears spring into her eyes when she shrugs. “But I also know that I was selfish to not tell you, even if it didn’t have to do with trust.” 

She puts her glasses back on, taking a deep breath. She wants to be authentic Kara for this part of the conversation, she decides. 

“I didn’t want to tell you because… you’re the only person who could look at me━Kara━like I’m a hero, even without knowing that beneath this shirt is a suit that the world associates with those heroics. Alex, J’onn, Winn, James…” she lists, shoulders slumping. “They say Kara Danvers is their hero, but it’s never without knowing what I’m capable of. People _know_ Supergirl is a hero. My friends know she’s a hero. Hell, even _I_ know she’s a hero.”

Lena rolls her tongue behind her teeth, listening.

“You’re the only person who was able to tell me that Kara Danvers is her hero without me feeling like there’s a freaking asterisk next to the claim,” she sounds let down, bowing her head. “Like it’d have a footnote saying, ‘...but Supergirl is pretty cool, too.’ Before you knew, her and I were two different people. To you, I was just… Kara. I was _your_ Kara.”

There’s a tiny smile on her face, attempting to get her friend to understand.

“I loved being your Kara,” it’s murmured, hopeful. “I still am, but now… I…” her sentence stops, trailing off.

“No side of you would’ve ever taken away from the fact that you’re the person I’ve poured my heart and soul out to since we’ve met,” two tears drip down Lena’s cheek, being stray reminders of her swollen heart. “A building being renovated doesn’t mean you destroy the foundation you built it on,” she tries the analogy, swallowing through her tightened throat. “A relationship is no different. If you told me the truth, I still would’ve found solace in _Kara._ She’s who I met first on a personal basis, wasn’t she? She’s who I confided in, and trusted.”

Kara nearly winces at the use of past tense. She keeps the reaction to herself.

“I am trying to understand your reasoning, I am…” Lena rasps out, staring off to the side, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same, after this. Not because of who I know you are, but because of what I know you’ve done. How you’ve lied, and you’ve kept a smile on your face while you did it. You’ve held me in your arms, protected me, allowed me to be vulnerable for once in my life… yet it’s been through deception. How am I supposed to get past that?”

For once, Kara can’t find the words, or an excuse, or a reason. She can’t figure out what to say to ease the pain. Something tells her that Lena doesn’t want her to, either.

“I don’t know,” it’s muttered beneath her breath, eyes lowering to the floor. “I… don’t know,” she repeats.

When they next make eye contact, there’s deafening silence flowing into the room like a dam’s broken through the larger-than-life windows. It engulfs them. It holds them captive within the waves, searing through their limbs and stinging their ears like they’ll pass out from the overwhelming quietude. Part of Kara wishes she would pass out, just to escape the conversation and pretend it never happened. But, when she woke up, she’d know it’s real. She’d be reminded of the massive fuck-up, and she wouldn’t be able to change it.

Her eyes follow Lena’s, the timid glances becoming a sort of dance between them.

“I’m sorry, Lena,” her lower lip quivers. “I am _so_ sorry.”

The other woman swallows the lump in her throat, giving the universe a sad smile before it drops again. More tears appear in her eyes, nodding at Kara.

“Me too.”

For what, Kara isn’t sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An idea for this has been floating around in my mind for a while, so I figured I'd give it a go. This is my first time writing for these two characters, though they've always been close to my heart. I've normally just sat back and browsed through Supercorp fic, but alas I wanted to provide some content to this great fandom. (Seriously, I love how tightly knit this fandom is). So thanks for giving this a read, and hope it wasn't awful. There are so many ways this reveal/interaction could go, and Kara could have endless reasons as to why she didn't tell Lena sooner, so I'm interested in seeing how it plays out.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @ "capn-charlie"!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my spin on the Lena vs. Kara confrontation; after-effects of the confrontation.

For what feels like the umpteenth time in twenty minutes, her gaze flickers over to where her phone rests on the coffee table. Lying there, unused, and full of wait for Lena’s daily text.

As of late, her delay has kept Kara on her toes. Something that both bothers and reminds the blonde of mistakes she wishes she could erase. She can’t, though. That part’s obvious. Instead, she’s kept her complaints and grievances to herself, away from Lena. Instead, she’s used every ounce of strength to bite her tongue and keep her thumbs at bay while simultaneously wishing to ask her best friend if she’s alright.

 _Of course she isn’t,_ Kara has mentally scolded herself repeatedly. Coming with an eye-roll ━ for each of the five, almost radio-silent days since their exchange in Lena’s office ━ she’s dismissed the option in texting the other woman first. _Space, she wants space._

Except, for the five occasions ━ one per day ━ that she’s actually heard from Lena, Kara has nearly second-guessed the idea to give her friend that space. Because, each time, the shortened texts of _“Have a nice night”_ or the single _“Hope you’re well”_ have sounded as though they hold an underlying plea. A plea that asks Kara to extend the conversation a little longer, or ask how she’s faring, how she’s holding up, how she’s _breaking down,_ etc. Sometimes, she even strives to give into those theories of Lena wanting a tad more conversation ━ just enough to know they’re both still living, or their friendship is. But she doesn’t. She _can’t._ Not when she knows how much she’s stained both of them, not when she knows the answers to all aforementioned questions:

Lena isn’t faring in any sense, Lena isn’t holding up at all, Lena is more than likely breaking down.

And Kara assures herself of the latter because she’s actually witnessed it.

So, maybe she hasn’t been giving her best friend the amount of space she’s tried to, or she’s told herself to. Maybe she’s played into her own indulgences a bit more than she wanted to admit. Okay, yes, she has.

Yesterday was the kicker in terms of keeping herself away from the woman she’d broken in half. The woman she’d held the biggest secret of all from in hopes of staying selfish and keeping Lena’s mind free of Supergirl’s real identity. 

In true fashion to her own endeavors, Kara sought out Lena’s location in the city. For once, she hadn’t been stuck in her office while doing paperwork. This time, she was walking across the city in her normal, high-heels, though she wasn’t treading the streets as if she owned them like only Lena Luthor could pull off. Unlike her normal charisma, Kara watched as her friend very seldom glanced upwards at who she was bumping into ━ before mumbling a spur-the-moment _“Sorry”_ ━ and she hardly paid attention to where she was going. She looked in a rush, first thing in the morning, with her hair down yet slightly tousled. It was a look of wearing thin against her own grain, and something else that Kara blamed herself for. 

She knew it wasn’t Lena’s day-in and day-out personality. It was barely a fraction of it, after days of sparse conversations and likely no sleep. Judging by her friend’s complexion ━ without make-up, being a rarity, and the bags beneath her ghosted eyes ━ the blonde rightfully guessed that she was exhausted. 

Again: Kara’s fault.

The worst part is that she can’t do anything about it, either. She can say she’s sorry until she’s blue in the face, she can curse at herself for going about it all wrong, she can spit on Lex’s grave and blame him all she wants, but nothing will undo the hurt she’s caused her best friend. In all sincerity, she’s not even sure that Lena wants her to. At least, optimistically speaking, despite the pain that courses through the raven-haired woman’s veins, now she knows the truth. Now, everything’s in the open, and she can cast judgement on Kara for whatever she deems worthy. 

It’s all about patience on Kara’s side of things, whether she likes it or not. 

A sigh exits her nostrils. A last-ditch attempt at focusing on the TV that rolls through something she’s paid little to no attention to. After eating dinner, there’s been a sliver of normal conversation with her friends. Even Alex is off doing whatever, leaving Kara to sulk alone and with her fuzziest, white blanket. She snuggles into it further, hoping to achieve at least a minute sense of comfort. 

Then, there’s a knock at her door. One that warrants a puzzled frown, but her glasses sinking down the bridge of her nose so she can see who’s outside without moving. Currently, she can’t be bothered unless it’s uber important. 

It is.

With fastened motions, she all but whips the blanket from her body and slides herself across the apartment to the point of nearly face-planting into the door. Courtesy of her socks growing too much traction against the floor straight away. She steadies herself on the doorknob, clearing her throat and putting on a brave face before it’s opened.

“Lena,” sheer surprise colors her demeanor, lips staying parted. “Uh━come in, come in,” she moves a bit too quickly from the doorway, waving her hand toward the innards of her apartment.

Sunken-in, green eyes merely stare into the space. They look at its contents. The soft couch with a white blanket pushed messily into a corner, the rumbling TV with a colorful show already playing on its screen. The countertops, the unique fridge, nighttime darkness seeping through the large windows. She notes how foreign all facets seem nowadays. How different, how… _new._ Not in a welcoming way, either, but as if she was a child stepping into a fresh classroom after changing schools. It comes with an unfamiliar scent, as well. Kara’s scent, yes, but it’s not the same. Frankly, it’s only a reminder of the deception that’s clouded them since the very beginning. It’s only a reminder that she’s basically meeting Kara’s — _Supergirl’s_ — apartment for the first time.

There’s a ringing in her ears that keeps her mouth agape. There’s a dryness in her eyes that’s caused by not blinking for an extended time. So much so, Kara’s hopeful smile dims with every tick of the clock that passes. With each light that drains from Lena’s eyes ━ not that there was much to begin with. 

She suddenly swallows hard at Lena’s reserved attitude. At her clear reflection on the events that have unfolded. And, truly, all she can do is respectfully stand there and hope that her best friend crosses the threshold into her apartment so they can at least spend some time together. Time that they’ve wasted since Lena found out, because Kara sure enough knows that they should be discussing things instead of ignoring the elephant in the room. 

Through a relative attempt to break the already forming tension, Kara gingerly clears her throat.

Lena snaps out of it, blinking hard. There, she sees Kara standing with a bashful, apologetic expression on her face. Her glistening eyes, waiting to either be yelled at or lectured. There’s even a crease in her forehead that all but says, “Go ahead, I deserve it.”

And she does. She does deserve it.

At the same time, that’s not why Lena came here. That’s not what took her out of her office, sleepiness and all, across the city so she can nimbly climb the stairs to the other woman’s apartment unannounced. Lecturing Kara isn’t what became her sole inspiration for blinking away the exhaustion, just enough to fold the papers on her desk, throw on an over-sized sweater and comfortable pants, then exit the building she calls her second home.

Her own apartment being her third home. 

Kara — in general — being her first. _That’s_ what brought her here, after all.

Finally, with persisting hesitation, Lena nods. Not to Kara, in particular, but at the situation. Like she’s bracing herself for the ensuing interaction with someone who’s done the worst, yet knows she can’t escape it now that she’s taken initiative.

She’s followed into the apartment with a single door keeping her from exiting without a word. It brings nervousness, confusion, and a batch of decisiveness that likewise gave her the extra push to coming here, in the first place. One moment, she was begrudgingly scanning through endless sheets of paper that eventually all blurred together, and the next she was staring at Kara’s door. After she blinked, blue eyes were boring into hers. That’s when her exhaustion formally hit her, if it hadn’t already.

Lena sits on the cushion furthest from where Kara was. Evidence being shown in the shallow bowl upon the couch’s righthand seat, and the blanket shoved into its corner. It takes a while for her to get as comfortable as she can, but, once she does, sleepiness shoots straight through her. When her eyes close, they sting heavily. When she moves her arms, they tingle. Each ailment a result of the collective, seven hours of sleep she’s gotten in five days. It’s been awful, to put it gently.

“I know it’s a silly question, but, um,” Kara doesn’t even look at her once she’s sat down, “how are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up.”

And that’s it.

“Right,” the blonde mouths to herself, scratching the back of her head while settling into the quietude.

Meanwhile, puffy eyes bore into the windows past the TV. Staring into the darkness, then disappearing. She even ignores her own reflection, or the little amount of it which she can see behind the TV’s frame. She ignores Kara’s, as well. Still, she can’t find the strength to blink, or take deep breaths, or focus herself enough to hold a decent conversation with the woman next to her.

Her best friend, who’s been unfortunately on her mind since Lex uttered those ghastly words to her. Since he gave her all the evidence in the world. 

She knows she shouldn’t give into the voices in her head that continuously rant about Kara, she knows she should make a solid attempt at healing herself so she won’t go insane, but it’s proving to be more difficult than she expected. Even more difficult considering that, in spite of Kara’s betrayal, she’s still the one person that Lena has wanted to spend time with. She’s still the person that her heart longs for, and that she feels the most comfortable with. She’s still her safety net, her comfort blanket, the one person she’s wanted to lean against and be held by, even if those arms contain Kryptonian blood that she hadn’t known prior. Not with Kara, at least. Because, truth be told, the blonde held a point when saying that, before this, she was simply Kara.

 _Her_ Kara.

Now, even with those same feelings of yearning for the woman sitting a cushion away, it’s so much different. It’s altered, and messed up, and _fucked,_ and just… not the same. But while it’s _not_ the same, it’s _still_ the same. That’s what she can’t get over. The anger about things changing, about the deception, about the lying and the secret-hiding… yet all she can do is feel desperation to cling to Kara more than ever before. All she wants to do is shift a foot or so to the left, lay her head on her friend’s shoulder, and whisper, “Can we just rest?”

Sadly, that’s not how the world works. That won’t help a damn thing. Lena can vouch for that, firsthand. 

Next to her, Kara grows anxious as she listens past the silence and hears the neighbor’s clock ticking in her ear. Her jaw grinds, her eyes desolate as they stare crossing Lena’s line of sight toward the windows. It shakes her to the core, almost to the point of leaving the apartment, just so she can toss that forsaken clock out the window. Easing the tension of its ticking, however, is the other woman’s heart. The subtle beat of it, lesser than usual yet still there. _Thank Rao, it’s still there._

“How pathetic is it that you’re the one I wish to turn away from but the same person I drift to for security?” Lena all but speaks to the windows, voice barren.

A soft, half-smile is given to her, disregarding the dark-haired woman’s sadness about the subject.

“It’s not pathetic,” she disagrees, a bit of desperation in her argument. “You said it yourself: renovating a building doesn’t change its foundation. I’ve made a huge mistake that we’re dealing with now, but that doesn’t change how we were before,” a beat. “Does it?”

Her eyebrows raise.

“I suppose not entirely,” the admission is quiet, Lena now playing with her hands in her lap. “Though it does add a whole dimension that I’ve yet to give the time of day. Now, when I look back, I’ll see three people in our conversations. Either that, or the looming secret set in front of me.”

“Lena…”

“I didn’t come here to discuss it, honestly,” she turns to Kara for the first time, gaze adamant before shifting her jaw and lowering her chin again.

“Why’d you come here, then?” the question is asked without hesitation ━ before the blonde realizes how it could’ve come off. “I━I mean, not that you’re not welcome, whenever. The door’s always open━or you have the key I gave you, right? You can still come and go as you please. You could even stay, if you wanted that.”

The makeshift smile she flashes her friend falters when she realizes that Lena is hardly listening.

“Good to know your nervous babbling wasn’t a farce, as well,” she blinks innocently, then understands that she’s just being spiteful now. “Sorry,” the word is muttered, shaking her head at the ceiling.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Lena disagrees with a solemn laugh. “No amount of hurt gives me the right to backhand you at every given opportunity. Slipping into that typical, Luthor mindset isn’t on my to-do list.”

“You’re better than that.”

She nods this time, “I know I am.”

No response.

“I can’t tell you━exactly━why I came here. I don’t know where my mind is currently, and I’m not sure where it will be tomorrow. I only know that I’m above ignorance. I meant it when I said I’m trying to understand, even if it’s hard to see past that fresh wound,” it’s whispered, hoarse and frail. “All the lies, the pretending,” her demeanor turns shy, fiddling with her fingers once more. “But, for whatever reason, my heart still says you’re my best friend. After going so long without family, you don’t want to let that kind of thing escape, you know?”

There’s a watery laugh that fills the room. Kara watches Lena’s exterior crumble under the weight of what she’s done. Her lips rub together, not knowing if she should move closer and hold her like she used to, or if she should stay put.

Either way, whatever decision she would’ve made is void when they’re interrupted. From somewhere downtown, a large explosion emanates. So pronounced, it shakes the apartment complex and both women are fully alerted by it, turning in the direction of the source. Kara actually gets up from the couch, running over to the window closest to the door as Lena remains sitting, yet turned. Arm lying across the back of the couch, and watching the blonde stare out the window with both women wearing frowns. 

“Can you see anything?”

“No,” Kara’s admission is quiet, mainly spoken to herself.

Slowly, she realizes that it’s best if she takes a look. Unlike in usual instances, it’s not much of an intense, do-or-die moment of comprehension. Instead, her eyes slowly drift over to Lena as she turns to the woman. She’s stared at, like Lena has been waiting for something more, something… _different._

Kara knows exactly what it is. 

Suddenly, she feels self-conscious about the idea of whipping into her suit. She feels self-conscious about opening her shirt, adorning that infamous symbol before jetting off into the night sky. With Lena right there, her chin lowers as her fingers nimbly pick at the buttons of her old, nighttime flannel without undoing them. They feel heavier than they usually do. They feel more complex, and more intricate. She stares at them as if they were, as well. 

“Go ahead, Supergirl,” Lena says it a bit dryly, but also with sincerity. “I’m sure someone needs you,” it’s whispered, icy eyes boring straight into Kara’s temple.

Still, she hesitates for longer before nodding with deliberacy. 

With normal motions never before seen by Lena, she whips into uniform in the blink of an eye. Before her friend can formulate a dignified reaction to the motions, Supergirl is stood in front of the window with its panes now open. A subtle breeze flows through the apartment, getting Lena to curl up a little closer into the couch’s back. Simultaneously, she focuses on Kara ━ turned Supergirl ━ in her glory. How the wind causes strands of blonde hair to tickle the frame of her face. How the moon reflects against the contours of her cheek. It all looks so natural, though likewise ethereal. There’s additionally a small flip of her stomach that she can’t ignore. A sense of pride, even if stifled by the pain she’s currently dealing with.

Shyly, Kara looks at her. A sign as if she’s waiting for some sort of approval. 

Lena stares more. Unblinking, and unmoving. She doesn’t even smile, not one bit. 

At her reluctance to speak, the blonde nods at nothing in particular. She takes two steps forward, muttering a non-direct “This shouldn't take too long” before peeking through the window.

The other woman knows she’s a split second away from kicking off into the air, leaving behind a gust of wind. She’s familiar with the sequence, remembering all the times she’d kept in awe at watching Supergirl exit her balcony. Sometimes, she’d been a little too close to remain casual about it. Since forever, the speed and godlike tendencies have amazed her. 

The difference this time is that she knows she’s staring at Kara. Even with Supergirl’s suit fastened against her body, being like a second skin to her best friend, she knows that beneath it is still Kara.

Again: _her_ Kara.

As the woman’s knees bend so she can kick off, Lena can’t help but let an abrupt “Kara” fall from her lips. One that stops her in her tracks, being slightly eager and jumping to get in a final word.

She turns back, lips parted at the soft-spoken name considering Lena’s unwavering irritation. She waits for something more.

“Be careful.”

For the first time in nearly a week, Kara gives her a genuine smile. One that makes Lena’s heart flutter, even if she’s causing the blonde a similar amount of pain that she’s been bestowed with. Although she can’t find the strength to mirror it before Kara successfully disappears into the night, afterwards, the smallest grin curves over her mouth, even if not seen by the naked eye. She knows it’s there, and that’s enough.

With a sigh, the grin fades as soon as it was felt. She leans her chin on her arm, burying her face into the couch’s material.

  


It’s at least twenty minutes later when Kara returns in a gust of wind. One that even brings a leaf into the apartment, right before she pouts at its entrance and it’s tossed right back through the pane. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she speaks with her back turned, closing the windows. “Usually I’m back within five, maybe ten minutes, but for whatever reason, I━” 

Spinning around to face the couch, her words trail off until they’re replaced by a tiny chuckle. One that’s given to the sight in front of her, being Lena fast asleep on the couch. Curled into the back of it, and snoozing peacefully against the white blanket now bunched mostly in her lap and clutched in her hands.

There’s a warmth in her chest that spreads to her cheeks upon seeing Lena feel so safe and secure upon her couch and with her blanket. It also comes from knowing that, if Lena wanted to, she could’ve left, gone home, and slept there. After nights of minimal rest, she’s finally sleeping soundly. 

Kara doesn’t even want to move her into a better, sleeping position. At this point, she wonders if she should just leave Lena how she is and hope that she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck. Then again, she’s not sure that would help the woman’s mood improve any more than how it has ━ or _hasn’t_ ━ as she’s gotten zero sleep in the past however-many days. With that in mind, the blonde carefully tip-toes over to Lena and lays her further onto the couch. The blanket is then draped over her body. A variety of pillows and other blankets, set next to her.

For a moment, Kara lingers near the couch and wonders if she should do their normal routine of moving Lena to the bed. It’s something she’s done on multiple occasions when the woman worked herself too hard for hours beforehand, only to fall asleep at the worst of times. In those instances, the blonde would pick her up with ease and transfer her to the bed, just so Lena could get as much sleep as possible. She was always thanked endlessly. Sometimes teased, too.

With everything that’s happened lately, testing newfound boundaries is something that Kara feels she should treat with care. It’s something she should stay away from tonight, moreover, and Lena is clearly still tender from the reveal. Better safe than sorry, that kind of thing.

She takes another glance at Lena, noting how she’s still asleep with her eyebrows knitted together. Contemplative, yet content. Kara smiles at the appearance, eventually nodding to herself. 

The apartment lights are shut off, as well as the TV, and she claims tonight as a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind (and somewhat sad, whoopsies!) comments on the first part of this. I had a second part written up a bit, so I figured I'd post it. If I dig up anything else for this scenario, I'll post that, too. For now: I know this was more so... internal (?) and less dialogue-oriented, but it was more so to prove that while everything has changed, it's also still the same. While I'm having a hard time coming to the conclusion about if Lena will ultimately not be able to trust Kara again, or if she'll be able to against all odds... I think this second part has a genuine claim in Lena knowing that family is hard to come by.
> 
> As I keep saying: we'll see! But I hope this was worth the second part. I'm still getting into the groove of writing for Supercorp, but alas that's what practice is for, amiright? 
> 
> Find me @ "capn-charlie" on Tumblr.


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